Only Superhuman (34 page)

“He would have had no chance to do so,” Eliot told her, subdued. “The Phobian defenses are very reliable.”

“They’re saying he wanted them to blow him out of the sky,” Psyche said with difficulty. “That it was a suicide run.”

“No!” Emry cried. “Sensei wouldn’t kill himself! He was—” She choked on her words, had to start again more quietly. “He was too generous. As long as there was anyone who needed his help, he’d never stop fighting.”

Psyche rose and clasped her shoulders. “I agree. When I met with him, he was fine emotionally. Well, not fine—he was angry about what’s happened to the Corps. Once I finally managed to speak to him, give him the pieces he was missing … it was the last straw. He told me he was ready to denounce Tai openly, to fight to take back his post.” Her expression grew bitter, angry. “Someone must’ve gotten on board, knocked him out, set the course … probably spacewalked back to Phobos. But there’s no way to tell … they made sure all the evidence was destroyed.” She winced. “I feel so stupid. It can’t have been more than a few hours after we met. If I’d stayed with him longer, maybe…”

“No!” Emry hugged her. “It’s not your fault, honey. You couldn’t stay too long and risk being found out. You did what Eliot told you to, and you did it very well. What happened next … that was someone else’s fault.”

“Tai?” Eliot asked from the couch. “Do you really believe he’d have Villareal murdered?”

“He got a teenage boy tortured and a college girl killed. You really need to ask?”

“But an act like this is far more rash.” Eliot frowned. “He would have to be very confident. Or very near a critical stage in his plans.”

Psyche spoke up. “Yukio … he told me he’d found hints that Tai was mobilizing for something big. Nothing he could be definite about, but…” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. This is … hard for me. I only met him the one time … but he was such an impressive man, so kind.…” She blushed. “So charming and handsome. I would’ve loved to have more time to get to know him.”

“I bet he would have too,” Emry said with a sad smile. “And I know just what you mean.”

“I still feel I let him down somehow.”

“Well, you didn’t. And you won’t.” Emry clenched Psyche’s hands. “We’ll carry on his work together. We’ll find out what he was digging for, and bring down that bastard Tai once and for all. And you’ll be a big part of that, I know it.” She kissed her beloved friend on the cheek. “Because I know you’ll never let me down.”

The Band
In orbit of Ceres

Greg Tai took a moment to study Koyama Hikari as she walked alongside him through the vast open spaces of the Band. She had been suitably impressed; there was nothing quite like this vista anywhere beyond Earth. This was only one small segment of what would someday be a single closed loop over three hundred kilometers in circumference and twenty wide, one of two adjacent rings counterrotating to allow the vast structure to precess as Ceres orbited the Sun. Though this segment alone had been assembled from individual cylindrical units, each the size of a large O’Neill cylinder, they had now been joined into a great slab with a single flat ground surface stretching across them at the middle, twenty kilometers wide by thirty long. It was in the process of being turned into a forest, but the trees were still young and sparse and one could see the landscape stretching off into the distance. Few Striders ever beheld anything so flat and open. To Tai, it was like a piece of home. But then he could look up through the vast skylights above and see his other home, the Sheaf, and beyond it the other Band segment that counterbalanced this one. The Sheaf was a vibrant place to live, a lively warren of interconnected cylinders and spheres, and it was easy enough to move among them if you didn’t mind the free-fall trips through the scaffold network or the bottlenecks at the axes. But Tai looked forward to the day when he could live and work here in the Band, which truly captured the best of planet and habitat living alike. In time, he hoped, the TSC’s headquarters would be relocated here, once it was no longer necessary to maintain the pretense of their independence. For now, though, he had brought Hikari here for a private conversation, off the record and remote from human or electronic ears.

Tai realized she was still calmly waiting for him to speak. He allowed the moment to drag out, observing her reactions, but although she fidgeted a bit, the young Troubleshooter kept her peace. He liked that about her. Most of the Troubleshooters were a brash and uncouth lot, always champing at the bit for excitement and action. It was a symptom of the problems facing the Belt. Outside of the Sheaf, an eclectic collection of individual habitat-states that had learned to live together as a pluralistic whole, the Striders’ regional or national loyalties were so strong and divisive that the only ones free of such allegiances, able to be truly nonpartisan, were the misfits, rebels, and outcasts. True, Kari was herself a rebel from her family and its criminal organization, but she was a refreshing exception to the pattern, restrained, humble, and obedient despite the deadly power lurking within her. Tai wished more Striders were like her.

Kari was beginning to squirm under his scrutiny, her pretty eyes darting away. “I apologize, Hikari,” Tai finally said. “I was just … contemplating how much I appreciate you as a member of my team.”

She blushed adorably. “Thank you, sir.” That was another thing he liked about her—she’d called him “sir” from the beginning, never needing to be prompted or reminded to show him the respect he was entitled to.

Not that his Earth-Cerean background made him better than any other Strider, of course. They were simply a product of their history. They didn’t have the Sheavers’ experience in balancing pluralism with unity, or the Terrans’ experience in overcoming their divisions to master a common threat. Indeed, much of Earth’s current peace and enlightenment resulted from the exile of militant transhumanists and other uncooperative extremists to the Belt, which had exacerbated the Striders’ existing tensions. That was why Tai had immigrated out here and made himself one of them: because Terrans bore their share of responsibility for the Belt’s woes and owed it to the Striders to help them heal, to share with them the compassionate discipline that had saved Earth. The Cerean States had found the solution that the rest of the Belt needed; at the risk of overextending the grain metaphor, they could be the seed from which Beltwide peace could spring. He was here for the benefit of all Striders, to help spread that seed.

But it was satisfying when one of them had the decency to show some appreciation for that. He’d worked hard to get away from the poverty and chaos of his Terran childhood, to gain skills worthy of the respect his elder sisters had never shown him, and it was a sacrifice to leave his home, family, and position in the Sheaf to fight the good fight. Was it wrong, then, to take pleasure in a little compensatory ego-stroking?

“This has been a hard time for the Troubleshooters,” he told Kari, bringing her to a stop at the crest of a footbridge over a babbling brook. “A time of transition, of reinvention. We’ve lost some people along the way … people who didn’t understand what we’re trying to do. Who either weren’t willing to take it far enough, like Tor, or who took it too far, like Cowboy.”

“Or like Emry,” Kari said in a small voice.

“But you understand what I’m trying to do, Hikari. You understand how important it is to be proactive. To nip sources of trouble in the bud—judiciously, surgically—before they grow out of hand. You understand, perhaps better than anyone, that the subtlest exertion of force can do the greatest good, if applied in the right way at the right moment.”

“Yes, sir. I believe I do.”

“And you know what’s at stake.” He moved behind her and put his hands on her dainty shoulders. “You know better than most what we have to fight. You’ve seen the face of it firsthand. The gangs, the terrorists, the fanatics—you’ve felt the damage they can do to innocent souls.”

She gazed up at him, and he could see that his appeal was working. He could see the anger smoldering inside that little-girl face. “Yes, sir. Hell, yes.”

He glared at her. “Sorry,” she said, looking away. But he forgave her. The sweet child hadn’t entirely recovered yet from Emerald Blair’s unruly influence.

Ahh, Emerald.
Now there was an operative he regretted losing. She’d been as wild and uncouth as any Strider he’d ever met, but she’d shown promise. Given time, he could’ve instilled her with proper discipline and respect, or at least enjoyed the challenge of trying. But he’d badly miscalculated with her, failed to predict how her chaotic mind would function. He’d been so sure her bitterness toward the Vanguard, the Neogaians, and the rest would make her a potent tool for controlling them. But Thorne had had better counterintelligence than he’d anticipated, and Blair had been too easily swayed by a childish, impractical idealism.
Does she really think I wanted to see anyone tortured or killed? That I wouldn’t have spared those lives if there were a better way to achieve the greater good? There’s no true kindness in sparing one life if you know it will bring suffering or death to hundreds more.

But Emerald Blair had never truly lived in the real world. An improbably idyllic childhood, a playacting version of a criminal life with little real harm done, an assortment of odd jobs, and then a stint as the TSC sex symbol in residence … she’d had it easy, always getting to indulge her fantasies and illusions. She’d never had to fight for reward and acceptance, never understood the hard work, sacrifice, and discipline it took to make any real difference in the world.

But Tai would change that. Once Blair had become a Vanguardian tool to interfere with his efforts, it had been necessary to sacrifice her … because few Striders would understand any better than she had, at least not until they’d come to trust the Cereans more. She hadn’t yet borne the full brunt of that sacrifice, but he would make sure that she did. Greg Tai was not a man who allowed matters to remain out of his control for long. As a Terran born, he understood that one could not afford to lose control of one’s environment.

And Hikari, he felt sure, was the key to making it right. So disciplined, so obedient, she had waited meekly while his mind had wandered, not objecting to the hand that remained on her shoulder—or the other which he realized had been absently stroking her silky hair.
Mind your control,
he thought ruefully, folding his hands behind him but making no outward acknowledgment of his lapse. “I’m glad you understand what we’re fighting for, Hikari. Because I have a mission for you that I fear you might find difficult.” He came around to face her. “I need you to arrest Emerald Blair.” Her eyes widened; her delicate lips parted in surprise. “Can you do that for me? Would there be a … personal problem?”

After a moment, her gaze hardened. “No, sir. Emry…” She shook her head. “I thought I knew her better than anyone. I never imagined … sir, she’s a traitor. She let the Corps down. She let us all down. And when I see her again I’m going to punch her right in her lying mouth! Sir,” she finished, daintily clearing her throat. “But … how do I get to her? The Vanguard is protecting her, and—”

“I know. I haven’t told you the full assignment.” He led her off the bridge, a guiding hand against her back. “No doubt you’ve heard that the Vanguard is arranging a second conference to pursue their so-called alliance of mod nations.” He frowned. “They even have the gall to hold it on Neogaia. Like they’re rubbing our faces in it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But a lot of people seem to be falling for their line that it’s meant to show how Neogaia has reformed, how it’s ready to be part of the Solar community.” He scoffed, and she gave a high-pitched, adorable little scoff of agreement. “Eliot Thorne and his daughter are master propagandists. If we want to keep this from getting out of hand, we have to neutralize them.”

Kari’s eyes widened. “Neu-neutralize? Sir? You don’t … of course you don’t.…”

Tai laughed and patted her shoulder. “Of course not.” Another assassination at this point would look too suspicious, and with the cult of personality Thorne had built around himself, would only create a martyr. “What we need to do is discredit Thorne. We need to reveal to the other delegates that Thorne’s true goal is to rule over them, to exploit them for his own ends.”

“We have proof of that?” Kari asked, surprised.

“Not as such. But we both know it’s true, don’t we?” She nodded, still seeming uncertain. “It’s no different from what we did with Hoenecker. We don’t need to convict him in a court of law, just destroy his credibility.”

She relaxed at that. “Of course, sir. What matters is taking away his power to do harm.”

“Yes. Good girl. However,” he went on, “even without him, the other mod nations might seek to build on his work, to form alliances of their own. Imagine if, say, Neogaia and Mars Martialis began working together.”

“That would be bad.”

“It certainly would. So in addition to discrediting Thorne, you and your team would have the responsibility to stir things up between the other delegates.”

He spoke with her about the specifics as they strolled deeper into the woods—ordering her to make sure her memory buffer was off, due to the sensitive nature of this discussion. She would need a small infiltration team, specialists in undercover and intelligence work, but with combat skills just in case. He brainstormed with her about the forms their sabotage could take: planting spy cameras of Martian provenance in other delegates’ ships, slipping nonlethal doses of Neogaian poisons into the Wellspringers’ meals, that sort of thing. She offered few suggestions of her own, but he was satisfied with her obedience.

And her enthusiasm for one task in particular. “And while we’re doing all this … we get Emry too, right?” she asked.

“Best to wait until it’s all in place, but yes. Emerald Blair is an accessory to murder and a fugitive from justice, and apprehending her is a very high priority of this organization. That’s why I insist you have combat specialists with you on the mission. You’ll need help in taking her down.”